I was vaguely aware of Kenny’s snicker from behind me as I growled in my throat. It was becoming increasingly clear that it was not my night and would continue to go downhill if I remained.
Screw this shit! I marched inside, grabbed my duffle and coat off the bench at the end of the bed and stormed out.
“Where we going, boss?” Kenny fell into step alongside me as I marched back towards the stairs.
“My parents are at their cabin this week,” I said, pounding down the steps. “I’m going there.”
Kenny punched my shoulder. “Yo, dude! Wait!” Then he was bolting back up to the second floor.
I was at the front door when he returned, backpack slung over one shoulder. He jostled it higher on his back and grinned.
“Ready.”
I opened my mouth to ask him for what, but decided against it. I was in no mood for anything but a dark room and a cozy bed.
Saying nothing, I threw open the door and marched out. The sudden silence in the corridor was a cool, welcomed blessing. By the time we reached the elevators, the headache was nearly all gone.
We caught a cab and rode it in silence.
The two story log cabin was lit solely by the single dome light over the double doors. The rest of the house sat in soft, navy blue darkness. The taxi’s headlights washed over my parents’ metallic gray Expedition, a sure sign they’d arrived. I paid the cabbie and climbed out with Kenny a step behind me. Pine trees rustled with the December winds. Snowflakes glittered. Our boots crunched as we made our way up the path. I dug my keys from my pocket and unlocked the door. Kenny followed as I darted to disengage the alarm as it began to beep the thirty second warning.
“Dude, this is nice!” Kenny exclaimed, doing a circle on the spot.
I shushed him. “My parents are sleeping!”
He made a zipping his lips motion, which I didn’t buy for a minute. Kenny didn’t know how to shut up. The guy didn’t come with an off switch, and if he did, it was hidden in a place I didn’t dare venture.
We shut the door and removed our boots. I motioned for Kenny to start up the stairs as I reset the alarm. The steps creaked beneath our weight as we tiptoed our way up. All the doors on the second floor were shut and I gestured for Kenny to the third one on the right.
“You’re sleeping on the floor,” I told him in a low whisper as I opened the door.
He groaned. “Aw, come on, man! Can’t we share? I swear I’m not a spooner.”
I shoved him, sending him staggering into the sweltering depths of the room. I closed the door behind us, trapping us in with the heat. I’d forgotten all about the broken heater. I’d meant to tell Dad about it the year before, but once we’d gotten home and back to the routine of our day to day, a broken heater hadn’t been top priority. I made a mental note to tell him in the morning.
“Jesus it’s hot in here!” Kenny hissed.
“Heater’s busted,” I said, stripping out of my coat.
“Man I’m going to lose like thirty pounds in this sauna.”
“You could sleep outside if you like,” I replied, yanking off my shirt and jeans.
In the dark, I could hear the faint rustle of fabric and realized Kenny was removing his clothes as well.
“Nope, my ass is too cute to be frozen off. Besides.” I heard him shuffle in the direction of the bed. “I like it hot.”
I opened my mouth to tell him to keep his bony ass off my bed when I heard the chime of bedsprings followed by a yelp, a scream, a sickening crack and then a thud.
“Mother faaa…” Kenny’s wail would have been entertaining any other time, but at that moment, I was too busy leaping into action.
I lunged for the light switch and in a single upward motion, drenched the room in soft, gold light. I wasn’t sure who was more surprised by the sight revealed, me standing by the door, one hand over the light switch still, Kenny stripped to his boxers and on the floor, cradling a bloody nose, or…
“Kia?”
I was dreaming. I must have been because why else would she be in my room, tangled in my sheets in nothing but a t-shirt and black panties? Nothing else made sense. But damn if she didn’t look temptingly inappropriate with her cheeks flushed, her short hair tussled and one long leg bared from the hip down. Yeah, it was a bad time to notice, but man did I notice. I noticed even more when she threw herself sideways, exposing a round backside as she reached for her glasses off the nightstand. She pulled them on over her wide, brown eyes and blinked at me like a baby owl.
“Adam?” Her breathy whisper was just enough to bring me back to the situation at hand.
I mentally shook myself and focused on my friend, who had risen to his feet, still clutching his bloody face.
“Dude, I think she broke my nose!” Kenny moaned, pinching his nostrils and tipping back his head.
“What are you doing here?” Kia demanded, gathering as much of the rumpled sheets as possible to her chin. “Nessie said you wouldn’t be here!” It sounded so much like an accusation that I almost laughed. But I never got the chance. Our ruckus had raised the other occupants in the house.
Dad threw open the door and charged into the room, a baseball bat in hand. His hazel eyes took in the room, although I wasn’t sure how much he was seeing without his glasses. They landed on Kia, then Kenny and finally settled on me and widened.
“Adam?”
Mom barged into the room then, clutching her housecoat together at the throat. Her gaze went to me instantly. “Adam?”
I raised a hand and gave a slight wave. “Hey,” I said for lack of anything better.
Mom moved deeper into the room. “What are you doing here?” Her blue eyes swung past me to Kenny and went enormous. “Oh my goodness! Kenny!” She hurried to him. “What happened?”
“She attacked me,” Kenny said, sounding like a five year old who’d just gotten shoved off the swings.
“I am so sorry!” Kia said, scrambling onto her knees, sheets still pressed to her chest. “He jumped on me and I…” she trailed off as realization seemed to dawn on her and anger sparked in her eyes. “You jumped on me!” she snapped. “What are you doing in my room?”
“It’s my room, actually,” I said, biting back my grin.
“You weren’t supposed to be here!” she retorted sharply, turning those beautiful eyes on me.
“What are you doing here?” Mom asked, taking a hold of Kenny’s bony elbow and guiding him towards the door. “I thought you were spending the holiday with your friends.”
I shrugged. My hands automatically started for my pockets before I realized I was standing there in nothing but my boxers. I hurriedly grabbed my jeans off the floor and yanked them on. Feeling a bit less naked, I faced my parents.
“I changed my mind.” I gestured to Kenny. “He followed me.”
Mom clicked her tongue, but said nothing as she dragged Kenny from the room. Dad lowered the bat and sighed. He rubbed a hand over his face.
“You and Kenny can take the sofas downstairs for the night. We’ll sort this out in the morning.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to protest. I didn’t mind sharing the bed with Kia. After all, wasn’t that what parents were always trying to teach their kids? To share? It was certainly big enough for the both of us, not that we would need much room for what I wanted to do.
But Dad wasn’t having it. He stood firmly in the doorway as I gathered Kenny’s and my things and shuffled past him. He said something to Kia before shutting the door behind him.
“Stay downstairs,” he told me firmly. “No boys up here until we’ve sorted this out. I promised that girl’s parents that I would take care of her.”
I frowned. “I’m not going to attack her! Geez, Dad!”
He clapped the hand not holding the bat onto my shoulder. “I didn’t say you would.”
With a squeeze of his fingers, he nudged me towards the stairs. I clambered down them. Mom and Kenny were in the kitchen off the sitting area. Kenny was sitting on a st
ool at the counter while Mom dabbed his face with a wet nap. I dumped our things by the end table and flopped down onto the sofa.
“Go get some bedding,” Mom said.
My answer was to toss an arm over my eyes.
Chapter III
Kia
Sunlight spilled through the windows in pale streams that filled the room and illuminated the wall of framed posters, glinted off the flat screen perched on top of the dresser at the foot of the bed and rolled across the hardwood floor to stop just at the closed door. I stared at the square patch with a dull sense of interest. I’d been watching its slow progression across the room for what felt like hours, waiting for it to fully rise before forcing myself out of bed. Adam’s bed.
It had been strange enough, knowing it was his bed and that I would be using it during my stay, but to be in it with him in the cabin, under the same roof … yeah, I wanted to die. How humiliating to be caught by him in nothing but my underthings. I didn’t usually sleep with so little on, but the room had been so hot. Thank heavens I hadn’t decided to sleep nude.
Groaning at the mere thought of him walking in on that, I squished my face into the pillow, a pillow that smelled of fabric softener and Adam. I quickly pulled back, holding my breath. It was not the time to get tempted. I needed to keep my head and my libido in check. I had bigger problems to worry about, like what the hell I was going to do. I couldn’t stay there for six days with him under the same roof. I couldn’t sleep in his bed knowing he was only a few feet away. It was just too weird. I was trying to avoid the guy, not shack up with him.
I would talk to his parents and ask if they could drive me back. Or, I could call Mom or Joanne … No. I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t go home. They’d looked so happy to have the house to themselves. It would be their first Christmas together as a couple and I would be taking that away. I knew they wouldn’t mind and would even be delighted to have me back, but I couldn’t do it.
What then? What other choice did I have? Dad wasn’t home. Nessie was at the cabin. There was nowhere else. I had to somehow deal with the situation for the next six days.
My gut twisted and I exhaled a shaky breath.
Gingerly, I peeled myself off the bed and padded quietly over to the duffle I’d set on the cushioned window seat. I unzipped the top and removed a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. I dragged them on before grabbing my toiletry bag and creeping out of the room in search of the bathroom.
Nessie had given me a tour the night before. We’d arrived fairly late despite having left Mayferd midafternoon. It had been dark when the car had pulled into the driveway. But I vaguely remembered where everything was, or I hoped I did. The last thing I wanted was to walk in on Mr. and Mrs. Chaves while they slept.
I found the washroom—last door at the very end—and hurriedly brushed my teeth, ran a comb through my hair and debated whether or not to slip on my contacts. I’d gotten much more comfortable with them since my decision to remake myself, but I didn’t see the point of bothering when I was at home. I opted to go without. If I wanted, I could put them in later.
Gathering my things and doing a last quick check to make sure I wasn’t leaving behind any toothpaste smears or strands of hair on the counter, I left just as Nessie shuffled zombie-style out of her bedroom. It was that moment I was actually pleased about my decision to join the Chaves family on holidays. It was the sight of seeing Nessie, bedraggled, blurry-eyed and pale faced. She looked nothing like the camera-ready Nessie I was used to. This Nessie looked miserable and a bit young and innocent without makeup on.
“Good morning,” I said cheerfully.
Nessie grunted, shouldered past me and slammed the bathroom door closed behind her. I snickered and made a mental note to bring my camera with me to the bathroom the next morning.
Feeling lifted, I dropped my things off in the bedroom before venturing downstairs.
Mrs. Chaves stood in the kitchen, flipping what looked and smelled like bacon on the griddle. The succulent scent of roasting meat perfumed the air, thickened by the warm, rich fragrance of hot maple syrup and melted butter. My stomach rumbled before I even realized I was famished. I rubbed a hand absently over my belly, trying to tame it back into silence.
My gaze wandered away from the small mountain of food to the woman orchestrating the whole thing. She reminded me of a TV show mom in her silk blouse and black trousers. Her hair, a shade shy of walnut-brown was brushed and curled to tuck beneath her chin in a sleek shoulder-length bob. She wore pearls around her neck and a gold watch around her wrist that kept catching the light spilling through the patio doors every time she flipped things.
I made a mental note to never have Nessie sleepover at my house, where my mother pranced around in the morning in her underwear while singing to the radio.
Mr. Chaves sat at the breakfast table, poring over the morning paper. He too was dressed like he was about to head into work in a blue dress shirt and black slacks. I was beginning to feel a bit underdressed. Then I spotted Adam, sprawled across the white sofa, one leg dangling over the back, both arms tossed over his head. He looked both adorable and uncomfortable at the same time, with his face turned slightly away from me. Silky black fringes tumbled over his brow. The strands had grown since I’d seen him last. They curled endearingly along the back of his neck and over his ears and matched the heavy sets of his eyelashes, which were dark fans over his prominent cheekbones. His lips, lips I recalled vividly moving over mine, were set loosely together, the firm, full shape making my insides flutter and my fingers itch to touch. His chest was bare, the muscles coiled and strained in his awkward position. Shadows pooled between each hard grooves, defining every inch to perfection. He still wore his jeans, the zipper and button unfastened to reveal black boxers and a carved V that disappeared beneath it. He still had his socks on, but I didn’t miss how big his feet were and I felt a flush as I recalled what Nessie had once told me about men and their feet. I gulped and quickly looked away.
Across the glass and iron coffee table was the boy from the previous night. I couldn’t recall his name, but I felt a pang of guilt at the sight of him. He looked remarkably vulnerable pressed into a small ball on the other sofa. Both hands were curled next to his slightly gaping mouth, but it was his nose I couldn’t help staring at. It was bright red, swollen and painful to look at. The area around it, curving beneath his closed eyes was bruised, a harsh contrast to his pale complexion. His cap of bottle-blond hair was mussed around the square set of his features. I knew it wasn’t his natural color because his eyebrows were dark and I knew enough about geography to know the Asian population very seldom had blond boys. Nevertheless, it suited him, even if it made him appear slightly ashen.
“Good morning, Kia!” Mrs. Chaves’ cheerful greeting surprised me out of my reverie.
I quickly looked away from the boys to the pair watching me with polite expressions. Fantastic. No doubt they were thinking what a creepy pervert I was ogling their son in his sleep. I felt my cheeks burn and prayed it didn’t show.
“Hello.”
She gestured to the table with a greasy spatula. “Breakfast?”
I shuffled awkwardly forward and lowered myself down in the chair on Mr. Chaves’ right. Mrs. Chaves brought me a frosty glass of orange juice. I shifted uncomfortably at being served. I very rarely got served anything in my house. Not because my mom wouldn’t, although she probably wouldn’t unless I was sick, but because I felt strange letting someone do things for me when I could do them myself.
“Can I help you with something?” I asked. “I can cook.”
Mrs. Chaves’ face softened into a smile. “Isn’t that refreshing? I won’t even let Vanessa near the kitchen. That girl burns water.”
Mr. Chaves humped, snapping his paper. “That girl burns a lot of things; time, money … my patience.”
Not knowing how to respond, I began rising out of my seat only to be motioned to sit by Mrs. Chaves.
“I’m nearly finished,” she said.
“Thank you though.”
I said nothing, but watched as she flipped pancakes, scrambled eggs and fried bacon, a one woman whirlwind in motion, all the while never once getting a speck of grease on her. I was severely impressed and a little intimidated. Even when I made food, there was a good chance I would be wearing at least some of it. Not that I was a pig, but I usually read while I cooked, which typically explained the messes.
“So, Kia.” Mr. Chaves folded his paper and set it aside. “Tell us a little about yourself.”
I hated when people asked that. What the hell was I supposed to say? Hi, I’m Kia. I like sweaters, Chemistry and long walks on the beach. Somehow, I doubted that was what they had in mind. Other than the fact that I could recite Pretty Woman line for line, I highly doubted I’d be able to impress them.
“Do you have any hobbies?” he supplied when I was quiet for too long.
I shrugged. “I read.” Could that even be considered a hobby? I guessed it was as good as any. People collected locks of other people’s hair and gerbil poop. At least books were useful.
“What do you read?” Mrs. Chaves chimed in, scooping pancakes onto a plate.
“Everything?” I grimaced inwardly. They must have thought I was a complete moron. “I read a lot of fiction,” I clarified.
Mr. Chaves nodded slowly like that made complete sense. “Nothing wrong with fiction,” he said. “At least you read. I don’t think Vanessa has opened a book in her life.”
I opened my mouth, prepared to defend my friend when another voice cut me off. “That isn’t true.” Nessie strolled through the sitting area into the kitchen looking like the Nessie I knew with her face perfectly made and her hair a glossy black mane down her back. She dropped into the seat beside me, blue eyes fixed on her father. “I read the TV guide only yesterday.”
“That isn’t a book,” her father said.
Nessie shrugged indifferently. “We can’t all be straight A students like your precious Adam,” she said. “My talents lie elsewhere.”
Revealing Kia (The Lost Girl Series, Book 2) Page 3